


Spire's Wings

by Bleedingautumn



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Dragon OC Fancharacter, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleedingautumn/pseuds/Bleedingautumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of a boy, a champion, a Viking, chosen to compete in the Games created to sate the Dragon and Viking's natural desire to hunt and kill- and even submit an OC for your chance to be featured within the story! AU set a few years after the movie.</p><p>No, the characters from the movie are not going to be main characters in this fanfiction. </p><p>Also, I respect the rarity and how unique it is to find an actual Night Fury, so for that reason I chose not to use Night Furies (despite what a wonderful dragon they are) as the main character's dragon, given the circumstances I much prefer to bring other milked down and original breeds into the light for this fiction.</p><p>This is set after the movie, with a FEW references to the books that the internet has provided me but not SOLIDLY based on the books' plotlines at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spire's Wings

The howl of Vikings was probably the loudest, most obnoxious sound you would ever come across, most of the Vikings in this huge crowd colonising to feast their eyes upon this event had either hearty bets placed on these contestants or were there to give support to the contestants that represented their tribe- or to threaten them not to lose, one of the two.

Rex tuned it all out as his magnificent Timberjack rested on its long, curled serpentine tail lined with vicious dorsal-shaped hooked spines over it's lanturn-oil coloured hide. His wings were amazing and awe-striking to those to admired, sharp as razors and just as deadly and strong, Rex's sea foam green eyes rested on the animal's body, recalling his perfect health and how proud he was of his dragon that had spent his whole life with him. The two didn't know how to be without the other. 

His dark brass-coloured hair was thick and heavy over his handsome face, painted with russet, richly sun-kissed skin over a defined, trained body, ambition was Rex's mantra and his determination his weapon. He was clothed in hues of black leather and brown cloth, no fur on his body, just belts and thick, tight hide, under the leather tunic he adorned held with a leather utility belt snug and tight was a black cloth suit that served as gloves, leggings, an undershirt and a hood over his head, made of a coarse fleece to protect him from the chilling colds that lie ahead and fitted with a cloth extra that covered his face all but his piercing eyes lined with thick, generous lashes and the oil-slick ebony horns and silver rings around the bases revealed of his helmet through holes in the hood.

His dragon, Spire's eyes were closed, also tuning out the roar of the crowd in a seemingly trance-like state as Rex approached him and ran his gloved hand also tightened with leather belts and gauntlets up the side of the huge dragon's neck, "Nearly time Spire, nearly time." His voice was a slow breath as the dragon lowered it's head and a crackling sort of rumble sparked from his throat as Rex approached his specialised shelf of equipment, which with the last tournament event he won supplied him with a new saddle to replace the one he'd broken and armour pieces and weapons. It was not common for a Viking to wield themselves with a bow and arrow, but Rex was known throughout the games for it, the Shadow Shot they called his 'team' which was referring to both the dragon and rider as one.

The once golden light of the afternoon was dying into a dark hue of night creeping across the sky, making Spire's skin look greasy umber as his eyes opened to reveal large, golden eyes that fixated on the sky as his fanned out frill-like wingspan quivered to pick up pressures in the air, most dragons could sense when the weather was going south, and as Rex glanced at the other people equipping their dragons try to calm the more spirited ones that started snarling and squirming. 

It was probably going to storm, the news did not appear to bother Rex at all despite the danger storms posed. Spire was still calm as Rex retrieved the leather saddle soft and moist to touch and heavy to shift as he walked it back to the dragon and then throwing it over his back he hiked up Spire's spined back to the point where his wings ended and his neck began and attached the first belt around the base of the dragon's neck, Spire's wing positioning like a set of walls for Rex's feet to hold himself up as he located sections of Spire's metal-hard but somehow flexible membrane in his wings that had been surgically removed to make slits at the base of his wings for the belts to fit through at both sides so Rex could let himself drop and then circle around to the front of the dragon to connect the belts tightly around Spire's chest and belly.

He strapped his quiver across his torso and his bow criss-crossing over the other angle of his chest. Hearing a slight rumble over the sound of yelling Vikings wanting a good show.

Fully equipped Rex recalled the interview in front of the crowd before he'd participated in the events whilst Spire was being checked over by the squad in charge of making sure the dragons were fit for the games. He had stood on an elevated stone plate with the chief of his village plus the caretaker of the games, a tall broad Viking named Rorzhaunt with that characteristic, long garnet beard and beady white-blue eyes, Rorzhaunt was blind, but he was still an exceptional warrior because he was also granted with slightly abnormally shaped and sized ears, which made him much more attune with his sense of hearing than most dragons even.

Rorzhaunt had asked Rex what place he aimed to come out in, and Rex had responded with 'Victor' as probably every other interviewed contestant had said, nothing about him made him special besides his masked face, the Vikings seemed to appeal to the mysterious seriousness Rex carried on his composure, and out of previous events every he entered he managed to stand out, a few he even won.

But this was his event, he'd won this one last year with Spire, and the year before was the first time he'd entered and he'd come out third. This year he had every intention of keeping his championship. 

As the riders claimed their dragons by mounting them, finishing up stirrup adjustments and belts and fixing their helmets the announcer for the Sky Brawl event banged his hammer on his breastplate repeatedly to get the attention of all the crowd from his podium high above them, His voice was booming and loud as he yelled the mandatory explanation for this event.

"Sky Brawl event be here Vikings! Where the contestants will fight it out in the sky, if either dragon or rider touches the ground their team is out of the event! The sky is the battlefield but if a winning team does not present themselves by dawn then they cannot claim victory."

He could have used more words, but in claiming so, Sky Brawling was one of the most dangerous- and exciting events for the Vikings. Any dragon that could carry their rider was permitted, and killing was not against the rules. Many Sky Brawlers enter once and are downed for good. One thing Rex learned the first time in Sky Brawling, there was no harm in tapping out to fight another event next year.

Then there was the pounding silence as the announcer lifted his hammer again as with a shift of his legs Rex shifted Spire into the circle that all the contestants made, in that second, both Rex and Spire's eyes scanned each and everyone of their competitors, looking for targets, weaknesses, every Dragon had one, so did every Rider, and the two were focused on finding them.

Three heartbeats slowly passed, and everyone's eyes moved to the hammer as it crashed down and the crowd sprung to life as all the competitor dragons brayed to the skies and then in their own harmonies took flight. The first few minutes Rex knew would be chaos and bloodshed as he held Spire back from springing via his tail into the air. 

And then the first blow was made, a Gronckle collided head on with another dragon as it tried to gain altitude and the sound of crunching bones caused joyous uproar in the crowds as Rex watched the split second it took for the rider to jump onto the injured dragon's back and swing his mace and crunch the bicep bone of the dragon's wing as it howled and the Rider swung his heavy broadsword at the intruding Rider and was dodged and then kicked in the stomach, falling off of his struggling dragon as the two of them fell back to the ground, they'd only been about twelve feet off of the ground. 

If they stayed on the ground for more than ten seconds after the hammer dropped, Rex knew he and Spire would be disqualified, so seeing a clearing in the sky he told Spire what to do with his body language and the intelligent dragon obeyed, leaving the ground with two seconds to spare.

The untrained reflex would barely be enough to see all that was going on above the ground as Spire's Timberjack genetics guaranteed smooth, easily manipulative flight patterns as Rex directed his dragon into a sideways spiral around the edges of the battling dragons, taking his time rather than rushing into the fray to spill unnecessary blood or have Spire injured, he would much rather have the fighters tire themselves out.

The weather up there was not promising, the rumble of thunder disorientated the dragons, not to mention the thick haze of dark grey storm clouds and the cold chill that raised the hairs even though covered on Rex's arms. Not to mention the confusing flashes of lightning that darted through patches of the clearing, inducing the sense that it may have been a dragon shooting a projectile flame towards you even though it was not.

As always, he was not the only one hanging back, and he quickly caught sight of a Deadly Nadder circling the other side of the sphere of action, and it's female, brunette rider brandishing a shield and a knife pointing it right at his face to tell him she'd spotted him and was after him. He accepted the challenge passively, but in a sudden flick of movement he'd freed his bow and strung an arrow to it to aim at her as shock crossed her features and right after a Hideous Zippleback and another Gronckle zoomed by his vision he let the arrow loose, aiming for the Rider's chest, the Rider was in most cases the biggest weakness nowadays of a dragon.

She was surprised by his sudden projectile attack and he restrung his bow just as her swinging of her weapon to parry the wooden shaft gave her a blind spot as he released this arrow, that would embed itself deep within her chest as he stared her in the eyes as she stared back in horror as the impact rippled through her body as her weapon still poised mid-swing above her head. That look in her eyes was captivating for Rex, that helpless fear like a dying animal in the woods he would hunt to eat or feed Spire- he was barely aware of the adjusting of angles he made to keep eye contact as Spire continued to circle. And then a threesome of bloody dragons rippling at each other and Riders hacking tumbled into view, one of the dragon's leathery wings obstructing the Viking girl from view. 

When they passed the girl and her Death Nadder were both gone.

Rex looked ahead, things seemingly moving in slow motion, as killer-instinctual and aggressive as Vikings were, he still had trouble dealing with his first slaughter in the sky brawls. These events, the Dragon-Rider events were held every year to mark the end of a new year and the beginning of another. Crude, harsh games created to sate the natures of both dragon and Viking, they were made to fight and compete. 

He was pulled back to earth when a splatter of blood from a Zippleback being beheaded by a Monstrous Nightmare about nine feet 2'oclock from them whipped Rex's brow and stained his clothes and Spire's neck as the dragon, cackling in an impatient way shifted his head to fixate one of his dirty yellow eyes on Rex questioningly.

"I'm fine," He nodded, "Let's shave down these numbers." In barely half an hour, the dragons and Vikings had cut down or scared off about half of the original number that had entered, Rex counted thirteen teams left not including Shadow Shot. 

Spire was an intelligent dragon, he knew exactly what Rex meant when he said that, and the thought appeared to delight the dragon as his stunning wings gleamed and hooked slightly as the dragon's momentum shifted from a gentle sail to a shooting bullet, closing in towards the outer strayers of the fight, two facing off were interrupted then Spire shot by, completely severing the unfortunate dragon's right wing straight off with the sound of sliding metal and an inky cloud of coagulated blood in it's place as the dragon screamed and fell as the Rider clung loyally to the falling dragon.

During this Rex merely pressed himself close as possible to Spire's back in the saddle. The wind pulled and smacked his exposed skin around his eyes and forced his eyes almost completely closed, and his hood and mask whipped like a dying raven's wings in the speed levels Spire was reaching as he torpedoed in a corkscrew spin by to slice through the hides of two more dragons, cutting the contestants down one by one.

Before Rex could allow himself to feel confident though he could hear the distinct sound of dragon wing-beats behind them and risked a haughty glance under his armpit to see he was in hot pursuit by one of the last teams standing. "Spire, we have company." He yelled over the wind to his dragon, "Lose him!" 

Spire let out a call in acknowledgement of his pursuer and then in a wild flap of his titanic, razor-sharp characteristic wings started to pick up both velocity and altitude, the aggressive change in Spire's flight pattern mirrored Rex's growing need to have this dragon out of their tail wind. A dragon in pursuit is a dragon exposed to fire projectiles, and he had not been able to determine the dragon's race in his fleeting glance. He tried to look again this time twisting his torso to look over his shoulder, but Spire's zigzagging and the clouds they'd entered made it hard to see more than a shadow or a wing in this low light.

The moment he gave up on that mission and looked forward a flash of lightning stabbed his eyes with a bright light as he sharply closed them with a grunt and shivered, the higher they climbed, the colder the vapours on his lashes, skin and clothes became and the thinner the air became. He was starting to feel dizzy and light-headed as he breathed out a stream of mist and sighted the flecks of frost along his arms, "Spire we're going too high." He wanted to yell but his voice was a hoarse, stammering whisper.

He'd almost forgotten about their pursuer as he used a heel to kick Spire's rib on the right and the dragon acknowledged him with a slight screech and with a 'fwipping' sound like turning sails his wings redirected them into a diagonal descent. As the dragon's body arched, elevating Rex enough to see the horizon ahead before him he was caught in a momentary awe.

And suddenly there was another flash of light.

But this time, rather than a sheet of lightning, it was a fork. The flash lit up his eyes, and there was a moment of silence and then the ear-bursting crack of thunder as the fork struck against his chest in a horrific crackle and a terrifying series of spasms and convulsions followed as the jolts passed through his body and into Spire's as the dragon yowled in pain and seemed to shrivel mid-flight, their flight coming to an abrupt halt as gravity grasped them and started ripping them down mercilessly.

Rex had never fallen, on or off a dragon from so high, but everything shook and blurred and the wind sounded like a thunderous roar in his ears that would not subside, he had no idea what was going on, Spire didn't seem to be in an any better position. The storm clouds parted into a no-mans-land between the heavens and a blue surface that was the ocean from how far from the arena they'd strayed. Rocky temples for ghosts to rest in brilliant browns all around, but the two of them would plummet with a mile-high splash into the sea before either of them realised they were falling.


End file.
